The Ghost of You
by L4UR3N
Summary: Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl dies. Girl comes back. Nothing goes according to plan. Starring: The guys of Good Charlotte in their high school years and Alina Thomspon, our ghostly damsel in distress.
1. Chapter 1

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 1**

I rushed down the hallway, trying very hard to not be late to class. I had Mr. Shane this period and he _hated _late people. And if I didn't hurry up, I was going to find myself the victim of his ridicule, yet again. I actually don't care too much, considering I've become somewhat of an expert at shutting him out.

Mr. Shane teaches English, has the worst handwriting I've ever seen, uses terrible grammar, and knows nothing about what he teaches. To make matters worse, he was very mean and became more so when his flaws were pointed out to him. I believe that someday he's going to molest me, but that's just an inside thought.

I opened the door very quickly and ran in and sunk into my seat. I put my messenger bag down by my chair right as the bell rang. I sighed a breath of relief and began to take out my notebook. "Miss Thompson. Can you come to my desk please?"

I walked up to his desk and looked at him. I never noticed he had such a square head. "It's the first month of school, and you have already gotten three detentions for being late." I nodded. "I'm not going to give you a detention, because you were in your seat, but don't let it happen again. And, I'll be talking to your parents this evening." My eyes grew wide.

"Well, my parents left town this morning," I said, telling the truth.

He glared at me. "When can I call them?"

I remembered the note I found in the kitchen when I had woken up this morning. It read: "We'll be back sooner than later."

"Well, actually, they might come back tonight," I answered, knowing full well that they would not be back so soon. "I trust you can get my house number, correct?"

"Go back to your seat before I give you a detention for mouthing off," He said angrily, flitting me away with the back of his hand.

I returned to my seat, satisfied and smirking.

Upon getting back to my desk, I pulled out my notebook and a pen and took half-assed notes. I reluctantly waited for the class period to end so I could get the fuck out of here. It took a lot of effort to not burst out of the room and run home. I drew monsters in the margins of my notes.

I glanced upward at the clock and saw that there were only five minutes left of class. Seeing as notes were finished, I shoved all of my things into my bag, which now rested on my desk. I laid my head on my bag and closed my eyes. The bell rang loudly, although it seemed I had only been resting my eyes for a few seconds. I jumped. When I saw everyone leaving the room, I grabbed my bag and rudely shoved my way past the horde of high school kids, attempting to get to my locker.

"Alina! Hurry up! We gotta catch the bus!" I heard Benji yell. I was at my locker, getting out my Algebra 2 book. "Oh come on! We're gonna be late!"

"Hold you're fucking horses; let get my shit!" I said, stuffing the large textbook into my bag.

Benji tapped his foot impatiently. "We gotta go, Alina," He pressed, edgily.

"Jesus H. Christ, Benji. Where's the damn fire?" I asked.

Benji rolled his heavily lined eyes at me. "Just hurry up. The bus is gonna leave and I really don't feel like walking today."

I slammed my locker shut and hastily locked it. "You happy now?"

"Very pleased. Let's go." He grabbed hold of my wrist and dragged me down the hallway and through the doors.

Joel ran toward us. "Hold up you guys! Fuck! You guys are fast!" Joel panted.

"It's his fault! He's all rush-y and grab-y today."

Benji looked at me. "I'm sorry that my need to get on the damn bus in an inconvenience to you. Now, we haul ass."

"Damn, bro, chill out," Joel said. "We're going."

Once on the bus, we shuffled our way to the back. Various slurs and rude comments were thrown at us by the jocks and preps. And then they laughed. We didn't even fight back anymore. We just kept walking.

Eventually, you get used to it.

I sat down next to Benji and Joel took the seat in front of us. "So, are you coming to band practice?" Joel turned around and asked me.

"Did you really just ask me that?" I questioned mockingly.

"Dude, she practically lives with us," Benji said to his twin. "And you think she's not going to watch us practice?"

"Oh, I forgot," Joel said. "I see you so much, I don't see you anymore."

"I'm so glad my presence is always noticed,"

Benji and Joel both rolled their eyes at me and we sat in silence, pretending that we could not hear the insults that were being flung at us.

A few minutes passed when the bus came to a stop. "This is our stop," Joel said.

"Yes. It is. Gotta try to get through hell without getting food thrown at us," Benji muttered.

The bus driver opened the door, allowing us to get off of the bus. We were the only ones at this stop.

I felt something graze my cheek. I looked down and saw a Cheeto. "Fuck you!" I yelled. I wouldn't have screamed that if someone hadn't tripped Benji. Usually, I let these things slide. But I can't be expected to watch my friends get mocked.

We stepped off the bus without further pestering and walked to Benji and Joel's. The air was warm and humid, but it was nice to be outside, rather than trapped in the hellhole we call school.

When we got into the house, we saw there was a note on the refrigerator from their mom.

_Benjamin, Joel, Josh, Sarah, Alina and any miscellaneous boys (if you're there, and I assume you are) -  
I'm going to the grocery store after work. See you when I get home!_

_Love, Mom_

Josh and Sarah were Benji and Joel's siblings. I never saw them much, but they were great from what I saw. Of course, every Combs was. Well, except Mr. Combs. Talk about an asshole…

"You wanna have band practice early?" Benji asked Joel, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, let's call Paul and Aaron," Joel responded, picking up the phone.

"We really need another guitar," Benji sighed as he pulled out a few slices of pepperoni pizza.

"I know someone," I said, reaching over and stealing a slice.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 2**

Aaron and Paul came in Aaron's car down the street thumping hip hop, like they always did. The neighbors complained quite often, but we didn't care. They hated the music the guys played, hated when they came over to practice, and hated when the guys refused to turn down their amps. The neighbors called the cops one time, but we managed to get ourselves out of it. I think the neighborhood is finally immune to it now.

It's a good thing too. They were all pissed off. To put it lightly, today was fucked up. The preps and jocks decided to be certified assholes today, so during PE, they stole Joel's pants and made him run out of the locker room without his pants on. And after that, the football players attacked him and put Bengay on his balls. He walked weird for the rest of the day.

During Benji's math period, the kid sitting behind him put gum on his shirt and he ended up rubbing against a cheerleader and ruined her cheerleading uniform. She hit him on the head with her makeup bag, leaving a nice bump on his forehead.

Aaron was in his art class and he was attacked with paint. When the teacher approached him with a detention slip for cursing, the football player that had flung paint at him sniggered, knowing full well that he would never be punished for his actions.

During lunch, a group of thick armed wrestlers came to our table and dumped many trays of food in front of Paul. The excuse? "We thought he would be a little hungry." Paul's face contorted with anger as he chucked an apple at the back of the captain's head, hitting it with a thud. The only reason the wrestling team didn't tear Paul apart was because a teacher walked in right after Paul had thrown the apple. Paul came out of lunch completely unscathed, thankfully.

And as for me, I was walking to the bus stop when a car sped by me and flipped me off for, apparently, dressing like a Satanist. When I finally got on campus, the jerks in the car were waiting for me. They made many vulgar remarks at me as I walked into school. To make things worse, they fucking followed me to my locker, where I was then slammed forcibly against the lockers. They spilled the contents of my bag all over the floor and left me, a lock poking into my back and with only a minute to get to class.

We've had worse days, but I'm sure this one goes in the top five.

Benji would not let me near his guitar, informing me that I was too angry to be even breathing hard next to his first born. I sat there on the couch in their garage, and waited for them to finish the song they were practicing.

"So, 'Lina, you said you knew someone," Benji reminded me.

"You know Billy Martin?" I asked, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve.

Benji contorted his face in thought. "New kid?"

"Yeah, him. Well, he's in Overflow. They're kinda…floundering though."

"Call him up! We have an opening right here," Benji pointed to the empty spot on his left.

"…Right now?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah. Right now." Benji said. "Problem?"

"Well, I don't exactly have his number…" I answered sheepishly.

"She has a crush on him." Joel commented, his mouth full of pizza.

I felt my cheeks flush a deep red. "No I don't." I muttered, a smile on my face.

Benji sighed. "Can you just figure out some way to contact him?"

"Contact who?" Aaron asked, holding his drumsticks in one hand and a grape soda in the other.

"Billy Martin," Benji answered.

"Why do you need to talk to him?" Aaron asked.

"Potential second guitar." I answered for Benji.

"Oh, well, I have his phone number. We have to do a biology project together, so…"

"This is wonderful!" Benji clapped his hands together. "You go call him, okay?"

Aaron shrugged. "Okay, I can do that."

Aaron left the room, leaving me with Benji, Joel and Paul. "Okay, can you guys shut up now?" Paul asked loudly. "I am trying to tune my bass and your voices are interfering."

We all laughed heartily. I was joined on the couch by Benji and Joel, where we sat in silence to respect Paul's wishes. Until, that is, we heard the distinct jingle of the ice cream man.

"The ice cream man! Oh my god! Someone give me money!" I screamed, jumping up wildly from the couch.

"Where? Give me money, fast!" Benji shouted. We ran full blast after the passing ice cream truck. We ran behind it until we were too far from the house. The guy finally stopped.

"What would you like?" The guy asked politely.

"I just realized I don't have any money," Benji said to the guy and shrugged.

"I don't either," I responded, looking guiltily at the ice cream truck driver. We walked away, feeling like idiots.

"Thanks for bringing me back something, guys." Joel said upon our return to the garage.

"Not like you gave us any money to buy ice cream with," I answered, grabbing a soda from the mini fridge. I unnecessarily slammed the door on it, which resulted in the door falling off. We all stared at the refrigerator door that was residing on the ground.

"Oh, geez, Alina! Just break the damn thing!" Benji said.

"My bad, guys." I attempted to put the door back in its place. It pathetically fell back to the floor. "Sorry."

"It's cool," Joel said. "We'll just…"

"We'll just not have a mini-fridge." Benji said angrily.

The five of us stood awkwardly in the garage. "So…we'll just practice then?" Paul said suddenly, attempting to break the silence.

"Good idea, homes," Aaron said, picking up his drumsticks and sitting behind his drums.

The awkwardness finally diffused once the guys began practicing. I sat back on the couch and blankly stared at a spot over Aaron's head. I kind of zoned out, considering I was tired. I snapped out of it when a black Trans-Am pulled into the driveway.

A tall and slender boy got out of the car. It was Billy. My stomach jumped up into my throat. My body got tense. Joel took notice. He cocked his left eyebrow at me and smirked.

"Oh, shut up," I mumbled as Billy made his way up the driveway carrying a black electric guitar in one hand and an amp in the other.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 3**

After band practice was over, Billy agreed to come to the next one. Just as he was beginning to put his stuff back into his car, Benji and Joel's mom came driving up in her beat up van. She honked the horn and waved.

"Hey, Robyn!" I yelled from my spot and waved back. She parked the van and got out of the car.

Robyn was immune to strange and unusual kids in her garage. In fact, she welcomed it. She was just glad that her children had friends. She stopped next to Billy, whose butt was sticking out of his car.

"I've never seen this one before," She commented.

Billy backed out of the car and hit his head on the door on the way out. Rubbing his head with one hand, he stuck out the other. "I'm Billy,"

"Well, hi. I'm the adult figure here. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Oh, well –"

"You should stay, dear." Robyn answered for him, patting his shoulder. "You should too, Alina."

"I don't want to be a burden," I responded.

"I'm already feeding eight people. Might as well make it nine."

I smiled at her. "You're too good to us,"

"Someone has to be." She smiled. "Would you all mind helping me take the groceries in?"

Joel and Benji came to their mom's side and gave her hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Of course, mom," Joel said.

Aaron and Paul came to help get the many bags from the van. Billy also helped. Robyn when into the house, presumably to say hello to her other children.

I didn't see Josh and Sara as much as I saw the twins. They usually weren't home when I was there, considering they were in separate circles of friends. But, I always got to see them at dinner. Robyn always made sure they were at the dinner table with the rest of us.

"I don't say this enough, but I love your mom," Aaron said while pulling bags out of the van.

"I was just thinking that," I agreed. "Robyn is officially the coolest mom I have ever met."

Benji and Joel smirked. "Basically," They said in unison.

Robyn called us in forty minutes later. Our nostrils were greeted with the smells of French bread, take-and-bake pizza, and mixed greens salad. Nine places were set on the dining table. We took our seats, leaving one open.

"Is everyone washed up?" Robyn asked, a smirk forming on her face.

Guiltily, the eight of us rose from our seats to wash our hands. Billy, who had never been in the house, followed us. He seemed to be warming up to the guys quite well. He fit right in.

After our hands were clean, we all took our seats again, and within seconds, we were all filling our plates with food.

Best meal I ever had. This was my family. My family was not the two parents and sister I had at home who ignored me. Who don't care about me or for me. Who see me as a burden. I love the Combs'. They are everything I want in a family. And that's why I practically live here.

I'm so glad Mr. Combs is out of the way. It sucks he left his family with close to nothing, but he was an asshole. They don't deserve a person like him in their lives. His departure was for the better.

Once dinner was consumed, I decided that I had overstayed my welcome. Once I announced I would be leaving, Billy, Paul and Aaron all figured they should head home as well.

They packed up their things and headed their own ways. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, thanked Robyn and said my good byes.

"Let me walk you home," Joel offered. "It's getting late and I want to make sure you wake up in the morning."

"Okay. It's really not that far, but I guess I can use the company," I said, unsure if I really wanted to walk home with Joel.

We went on our way, walking at a slow pace. The sun was setting at its late hour, thanks to the summer months.

"Alina, I don't know what I would do without you," Joel said suddenly.

I was silent. I could not formulate a response to that. I just kept walking, only I let my eyes look down instead of forward.

Joel didn't say anything either. He too began to walk in a hurried pace. We reached my front door. "Well, thanks for walking me home." I said.

"No problem, Alina. See you at school tomorrow."

He sulked away into the darkness. I waited at the door until he disappeared into the night.

I unlocked the door and stepped into my house. It was dark and cold, except for a small light that was on in the living room. My sister must have left it on for me. I assumed she wasn't home because I didn't hear anything, so I left it on for her. I then went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Not to my surprise, there was a message on the answering machine. I played it.

"_Hello, this is Mr. Shane, Alina's English teacher –" _

I rolled my eyes and rewound the tape. _What a stupid asshole,_ I thought to myself.

I filled up a glass with tap water and walked to my room. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my backpack on the floor. I flopped on my bed and spread my arms and legs. I looked up at the ceiling, where one of my Marilyn Manson posters was coming loose. I pulled myself into a fetal position.

My alarm clock blared the time in my face. It was 10:47. I sighed again and reluctantly rolled out of bed. I pulled out my Algebra 2 book and some graph paper. I sat down on the floor and began doing my homework in silence.

An hour or so later, I heard quite a bit of noise coming from the front of the room. I heard giggling and hushed conversation. It was my sister, finally home with her boyfriend. Trying to be as silent as possible, I washed off the bloody knife and cleaned up my wrist. I rinsed out the washcloth and watched the watered-down blood swirl down the drain. I wrung it out and hid the knife in the washcloth. Cautiously creeping back into my room, I hoped to avoid my sister and her boyfriend.

My wrist continued to bleed once I was in my room. I unraveled the washcloth and pressed it my wrist. The knife lay innocently on the floor. In the off chance that my sister would barge into my room, I hid the knife in my dresser under some old t-shirts.

Seeing that blood would not stop pulsing out of the open wound, I silently crept back to the bathroom to get some gauze out of the first aid kit that sat unused in the cabinets under the sink. I wrapped my wrist in the gauze and finally let out a sigh of relief. My heart stopped beating so fast and I finally caught my breath.

As I left the bathroom, my sister and her boyfriend were just about to go into her room. I stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights.

"Hey, Alina," My sister said loudly. _Great, she's drunk,_ I thought. "This is Alan,"

"Emily, I know who Alan is." I responded quietly. "Good night."

I went back into my room and placed a chair under the doorknob. I don't want anyone coming into my room in the middle of the night again.

I set my alarm and stripped down to my bra and underwear. I stared at my various scars and bruises that were on my shoulders, arms, stomach and thighs. I sighed and walked to my window. I opened it to let in the night breeze. My drapes floated softly and silently in the air. I closed my eyes and felt the coolness on my body. I got goosebumps.

I walked to my bed and got under the covers. I shut the lights off and closed my eyes.

"FUCK ME ALAN! FUCK ME HARDER!"

I flared my nostrils. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my ear plugs from the drawer. I put them in and finally drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 4**

I woke up a few minutes before my alarm went off. I sighed and sat up in bed. Marilyn Manson had completely fallen off the ceiling during the night. I got up and rolled it up. I closed my window and drapes and turned off my alarm. I looked at myself in the mirror.

My hair was a rat's nest and the gauze I had on my wrist was saturated in blood. I pulled it off and threw it in the trash. The cut now had a nice scabby covering. At least it wasn't gushing blood anymore.

I removed the chair from under the doorknob to let myself out of my room. Knowing my sister would be asleep, I walked to the bathroom in my bra and underwear. Unfortunately, Alan was still there and awake and just leaving the room in last night's clothes. Again, I stood there like a deer in the headlights. He made me nervous, and for good reason, too.

"Hey, Alina," He said, looking me up and down. He winked at me.

I squeaked and I rushed into the bathroom. My breathing was irregular and heavy. I locked the door and slid down the door and began crying.

A few minutes later, I composed myself and turned on the shower. I cracked the bathroom window open and hopped into the shower. I quickly washed my hair and body and got out of the shower, not wanting to waste any time. I wrapped myself in a towel and went back to my room.

I took my Klonopin like I do every morning. I dried off and put on my underwear. I looked through my closet for clothes to wear.

Suddenly, my door opened. I gasped and grabbed the nearest shirt to cover my torso. Alan stood in the doorway. "Why so nervous, Alina?"

"I would really appreciate it if you left." I said quietly, not making eye contact with him.

"I just want to talk. Why don't you relax?" He responded, a wolfish grin on his face. He took a few steps forward and closed the door behind him.

My body got even tenser and I clutched the shirt closer to me. I was terrified.

"I appreciated the show this morning."

I stayed silent and still. _Maybe he won't see me, maybe he won't see me_, I kept repeating to myself over and over in my head.

He approached me and began to run his fingers up and down my arms. "How about a double feature?" He whispered in my ear. Tears began to fall from my eyes.

His hands wandered down to my stomach and went behind the shirt. I felt his cold finger tips graze my breasts. I bit my lip and tried to remain silent. More tears fell.

He smirked and ripped the shirt from my hands. He stared at my breasts and started kneading them hard. "Please stop," I mumbled. "Please,"

"Oh, stop?" He asked mockingly. "Okay,"

His hands left my breasts and traveled down to the waistband of my underwear. I squeaked. "Oh, you like this?" He asked.

I shook my head desperately. His hands slid down my underwear. I stood there, stiff as a board, as he touched me. Once he was done, he caressed my face, now wet with tears. He licked his fingers. "I'll see you later, Alina."

He then left the room. I fell down and cried. I was a sobbing heap of pathetic.

I heard the front door slam shut and a car drive off. I was relieved that he was finally gone. I stood up, my legs wobbly. I put on a bra and a pair of black shorts. Not wanting to expose the bruises on my upper arms, I put on a black quarter sleeve shirt. I grabbed a Korn wristband and slipped it on my left wrist – the wrist I previously cut up. I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my makeup.

I brushed some black eye shadow over my eyelids and attempted to apply eyeliner, but my eyes were too wet. I sighed and put down the stick of eyeliner. "I'll just do it later," I said under my breath.

I grabbed my hair dryer and plugged it in. Emily was a heavy sleeper, so I didn't bother being too quiet. I dried my long, straight, blond hair. I've considered dying it so many times. The cheerleaders – they make fun of me. They always taunt me about how I'm trying to be just like them. Like I care enough to be like them. It's not like I dye my hair. It's naturally blond, unlike theirs.

I ran a brush and some smooth serum through my hair. It was pin straight and shiny. My eyes were feeling drier, so I attempted to do my eyeliner and mascara again. Once I finished, I stepped back and looked at myself in the mirror. "Oh, eyebrows,"

I filled in my eyebrows, considering they're almost invisible. I looked at myself again. "Acceptable." I muttered and left the bathroom.

I walked into my room and grabbed my backpack, a pair of socks, and my Converse. I walked downstairs to make my breakfast.

It was almost seven, and I had to be at Benji and Joel's at 7:15. We almost always meet up and walk to the bus stop together. I grabbed some Poptarts from the cupboards and popped them in the toaster. I put on my socks and shoes while they toasted. I put them in a napkin after they popped up and headed for the front door.

I grabbed the lanyard that hung out of my backpack and walked out the door. I locked it behind me and walked to Benji and Joel's, swinging the lanyard around my finger.

I couldn't help but think of earlier this morning, though. I felt so ashamed that I couldn't fight him off. He's not that big, really. But when it comes down to it, I mentally can't do it. I just freeze up when he's around. I can barely talk or move when he's in the same room with me.

It would just be easier if he was never around.

Next time…

As Benji, Joel and I got off the bus, we were followed by jeers and rude comments, as usual. We hardly hear them anymore. Daily routine, you know?

"I can't wait to graduate." Benji remarked.

"It's only September, Benj." I said sullenly.

"Don't remind me."

We walked to our lockers to get our books for first period. I had Art Theory, so I didn't need to get anything. I only had to drop off my Algebra 2 book. Joel headed toward the C-Wing to go to English. "See you guys at lunch," He said before leaving.

Benji and I walked down the hallway a bit before going our separate ways. He went to Biology and I headed for the art rooms.

"Alina!" I heard from across the crowded hallway. I rolled my eyes and continued walking without turning around. It's never a good thing when I hear an unfamiliar voice calling my name. "Alina!" The voice shouted again.

It didn't sound malicious, so I wearily turned around. It was Billy. "Oh, hi Billy."

"Hi," He said. "I've been calling your name."

"Sorry, I kind of block out voices when I'm walking down the hall." I responded truthfully. "Coping mechanism."

"Understandable." He said. "Shall we go to class, then?"

"Might as well."

Art Theory was my favorite class. I didn't have any close friends in that class, but in general, everyone was on the weird side. There weren't any jocks or preps in the class. Just the art kids. Sure, there were the few who thought they were too good for everyone else, but most of the kids just want to escape the real world and make art.

I usually sit by myself because I don't like when people see me doing my art. It makes me nervous. I'm really reserved when I'm not with my friends, for obvious reasons. I'm so used to being made fun of by everyone else, so why would I talk to them?

Billy and I walked silently down the hallway. We entered the classroom. It smelled like clay and paint and Sharpies. I felt at home.

I set my bag down on the floor and took my usual seat by the kiln.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 5**

When the bell rang, I was in the middle of sketching a disfigured body. My paper was soaked with tears. I closed my sketchbook and put it in my bag. I took it with me everywhere, just in case I got bored during class. I put my pencils away, as well. I walked out of the room, careful to avoid everyone, including Billy.

I practically ran to my locker and grabbed my Chemistry book. I rushed to the Chemistry lab. Tears continued to fall down my face. Not much to my surprise, no one noticed. Except for Paul.

Paul was my only friend in this class, considering Joel, Benji and Aaron were all in Biology. We were lab partners and we sat next to each other. Everyone else pretty much hated us, except one Jonathan and one Amber. They were our other lab partners. They were nice kids.

"What's wrong?" Paul asked in a hushed voice.

"I – I can't –"

He hugged me tightly. "I love you, 'Lina, okay?"

"I love you too Paul." I said, pulling away from him and wiping the tears off of my cheeks. "Sorry, I just…I had a really bad morning."

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Not right now," I said truthfully.

"I'm always here, baby girl. Just remember that."

A watery smile stretched across my face. "Thanks Paul."

The class had gotten quite loud and Mr. Rudder attempted in vain to silence the chatty teenagers. A lot of the kids at my school could care less about academics. It was all about sports here. I sighed and shook my head. "I feel bad for him sometimes," I said truthfully.

Mr. Rudder was on the pathetic side. He was nice and he knew a lot, but he's a pushover. He's very easy to walk on. And most people do. He can hardly get a word out during a normal lecture because someone is always interrupting him by lighting a Bunsen burner, putting on their makeup, making out during class, throwing wads of paper across the room, mixing chemicals…that sort of stuff.

Paul nodded in agreement. "He should try standing up for himself."

"They would revolt," I said cynically. "I can see it now."

Paul and I giggled in the back row, trying not to add to the disturbance.

"Okay, class-" Mr. Rudder attempted. Someone threw a notebook across the room. "Hey, let's not throw things now-"

Sometime in the middle of Algebra 2, I began crying like an idiot. I just started bawling in the middle of class. I didn't have a single friend to comfort me or keep me company. Everyone was staring at me like I had a brain-sucking alien on my head. I grabbed my things and ran out of the room.

I blockaded myself in the bathroom. I locked the main door, dropped my bags, and looked at myself in the dirty mirror which was covered in lipstick hearts and countless phone numbers and rumors. My makeup was running down my cheeks. Hastily, I wet some paper towels and cleaned up my face, leaving only faint traces of the black dust and liner.

I was pathetic.

There was a knocking on the bathroom door. I turned my head so fast, I nearly gave myself whiplash. The door was still locked, however, so my fast-paced breathing ceased. Still, I stood in fear.

"It's Paul," I heard from the door. "I know you're in there."

I unlocked the door in order to let him in. I closed the door behind him and locked it once again. "Babycakes, what's wrong?"

Without warning, everything came out at once. I start crying and screaming and hyperventilating. I couldn't breathe and yet, I could not help but make noise. I fell down in a crumbling pile on the filthy bathroom floor. I began to shake. Every single thing I learned in counseling went out the window. I couldn't remember how to calm myself.

Paul put his arms around me and held me until I stopped shaking. After endless minutes, I finally caught my breath. The attack was over.

The bell rang, releasing the school to lunch. "Alina, it's lunch. Let's go home." Paul said quietly.

I nodded in agreement. Paul gathered my things and helped me stand up. "How did you know I was in here?" I asked, wiping a few errant tears from my cheeks.

"I went into Pearson's with note from Locke and I saw you weren't there. I had a hunch."

I smiled at him tearfully and gave him a hug. "Thank you," I whispered into his chest.

He hugged me tightly and together, we left the bathroom, unnoticed by the rest of the school.

We arrived at the place where Paul, Benji, Aaron and I always met at lunch. Paul put my bag on the ground. "I have to get my bag from Locke's."

I nodded and lifted my bag, crossing it over my body and letting it hang by my side. "I'll be here," I said.

He squeezed my hand and walked off in a hurry toward the end of the hall. As soon as Paul left, Benji came into view. Right away, he noticed my red and puffy eyes. "Alina," He said in a hushed voice when he approached me. "What's up?"

"I'll tell you later, I promise." I assured him. "We're ditching."

"That sounds like an excellent fucking plan to me!" He spoke excitedly. "Where's everyone else?"

I shrugged. "Paul's getting his bag; I haven't seen any of the others."

As I said that, Paul came from the hallway with Billy. My cheeks flushed and I hastened to fix my hair and make sure there wasn't any make up where it shouldn't be. Benji definitely took notice. He rolled his eyes and smirked at me.

"Is it cool if Billy comes with us? He's another car and I figured we could get some practice in this afternoon." Paul proposed.

"That would be just fine," Benji answered. "We just have to wait for Joel and Aaron…"

"Hi, Alina," Billy said quietly.

"Hey," I responded in a squeak, trying not to let him get a good look at my face. I didn't want him to see the obvious blush in my cheeks and my puffy eyes.

Luckily for me, Joel and Aaron arrived just in time. Benji greeted them with "we're going home".

"All of us?" Joel questioned. "That won't look suspicious or anything." He finished sarcastically.

"Like anyone will notice or care if we're gone," I said.

"Well…fine. Okay."

Joel was generally the "good" person in our little group. He was one to try to avoid trouble. He was also one to succumb to peer pressure and to get forced into doing things he didn't want to do. Plus, Benji liked making fun of Joel for his "goody-two shoes" ways.

"Well, I can only take three other people with me." Aaron commented. "That means Billy has to take someone."

Joel opened his mouth. "I'll go-"

Benji cut him off. "Alina can go with him so she doesn't get squished in the back." He winked at me offhandedly so only I could see. "So…meet at our place?"


	6. Chapter 6

**The Ghost of You [A Billy Martin Story] Chapter 6**

I put my things in the back seat of Billy's car and sat in the passenger's seat. His car was very clean compared to Aaron's, which I've had the misfortune to travel in twice. Billy also put his things in the back seat and repositioned his guitar and amp. He hopped into the driver's seat and started the car. Soft music came through the speakers. I was expecting something loud and ear-splitting, but the music was jazz.

"You can change it, if you like," He said quietly to me.

"No, it's okay. I like this." I responded, looking out of the window.

He looked in the rearview mirror and began to back out of the parking spot. We were both quiet.

I saw him glance at me a few times while he was driving. As soon as I started to turn my head, he returned his eyes to the road. We stopped at a red light. The intersection was one of the largest in the town. The car buzzed underneath us. There were no words.

The light turned green. Billy accelerated. From the right, a truck came speeding through the intersection. And it crashed. Into Billy's car. Billy's car was pushed to the left by the impact. Suddenly, we were upside down. Then we weren't. The roof was caving. The windows breaking. Someone was screaming…then I realized it was me. I couldn't feel my legs…I couldn't see anything…and then, I couldn't hear.

And then I was nowhere.

I blinked a few times. Wherever I was, it was extremely bright. It wasn't sunlight though. It was…different. I had seen a room like this…but I couldn't remember where. My whole entire body hurt, yet I was unscathed.

"Hello?" I found my voice echoed throughout the infinitely large room. "Is anyone there?" I asked timidly.

"Alina Thompson," said a loud and booming voice. I quickly turned on my heels to see where the voice was coming from.

Standing before me was a man I had never seen before, yet I knew who he was.

"Welcome," He said warmly, with his arms spread, "to Heaven."

I looked around in awe and utter shock. "Excuse me?"

"You're in Heaven." He said again without any condescension or impatience. I looked at him with a very confused look on my face. "I'm sorry to report that you did not make it through the accident."

And then it all came back. The green light. The truck. The screaming. And then…black.

I was at a loss for words. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. I stood there before God with my mouth agape. He laughed warmly. "I understand; it is a lot to digest."

"I just…I'm seventeen." I said, somewhat unintelligently. "I mean-"

"Yes, I agree, it is unfair that you did not make it through the accident." He spoke. "I have a proposition for you."

My brow furrowed. I opened my mouth to speak, but again, I didn't know what to say. "This is insane…" I said to myself.

"No, this is Heaven. And I am God." He smiled at me. "May I make you an offer?"

"Yes, I think." I answered, my brow still furrowed and my thoughts running wild.

"To be honest, a great mistake has been made today." He started. "I will be talking to _someone_ about that…anyway, you were not meant to die. Well, not today, at least."

"Go on." I said apprehensively. It may have come out rude. I'm not sure.

"What I'm saying is 'my bad'." God chuckled. "If you so wish, you can go back."

Had this been a cartoon, my jaw would have hit the floor. "What?"

"It was not your time to go. You deserve to be alive still. Everyone's death day is written when they are born. Your dying day was not for a few more decades. Because you died before your time, you get the choice to continue on with life. No amount of loopholes can resurrect the dead in full confidence, but your soul can return to Earth.

"However, a warning." He paused and took a deep breath, "Although you may be happy with your decision to return to Earth, the ones you love with slowly become saddened. It is not clear why this happens. But when a soul returns to the Earth, the ones that love it cannot remain happy."

God's eyes grew thoughtful. He was talking to me, but he was somewhere else.

"Okay, let me get this straight. I wasn't meant to die today so I get to go back. But once I'm back, no one will be happy."

"In its most basic form, yes." He answered solemnly. "There is more to it, but it is difficult to explain and I believe it is better to experience it."

"Will people be able to see me?"

"…At first, no." He struggled. "Eventually, yes. It is difficult-"

"How many people have been given this chance?" I asked inquisitively.

"Countless. Ghosts are real, Alina. They are. Every ghost comes from a mistake. They decide to come back but there is never a full transformation. At least, as full as it can be."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, Alina. Neither do I."

God and I stood in silence for awhile. He looked about the room as if it was the first time he had been in it. I stared at my feet in deep thought.

I weighed the pros and cons in my head. There was so much I hadn't seen…felt…

"God, I want to go back."


End file.
